


Florist Gump

by morkfrompork



Category: Forrest Gump (1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Story within a Story, maybe a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 19:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morkfrompork/pseuds/morkfrompork
Summary: Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlour AU-Gump Flowers has been a staple of Greenbow for many a year, staying strong through the coming and going of neighbouring shops. Forrest, the sole employee remaining, reflects on his time with his most recent neighbor





	Florist Gump

**Author's Note:**

> This was a silly, little, not-too-fleshed-out idea I had after a verbal stumble I overheard. Still very fun to write. Enjoy!

The sunlight streaming past the curtains of his bedroom window woke him up moments before the unnecessarily shrill ringing of his alarm. Nothing more than base instinct swung an arm out from underneath his covers, slapping the top of the little clock. It quieted with a pitiful little ‘ding’ before shutting up completely, simply softly ticking away the passing seconds. 

Forrest sighed contentedly as he replaced his arm under the covers. Ever since spring had really started, he’d set his alarm five minutes early every morning to give himself a little time to enjoy the sunlight. Lord knew he missed it during the winter; best to enjoy the pleasures while they last, as Mama always said. 

Warm sunlight early in the morning was one of the pleasures that didn’t hurt anybody. The only problems arose when it soothed him back to sleep and he was only woken up by irate customers knocking at the door downstairs. Forrest wasn’t as fond of those days, but overindulgence always led to pennance. Another lesson of Mama’s that he didn’t need to learn more than once. Forrest was used to people yelling at him, but in most of those cases, he had gone with his instincts or misunderstood a situation. Irate customers who needed flowers for their spring weddings later that day had a right to be irate and just as much right to yell at him. Being yelled at was never fun, but it seemed to feel worse when he’d deserved their harsh words. Ever since the day he’d slept in on the occasion of his biggest delivery in a long time, Forrest had resolved to keep his eyes strictly open and on the clock when he enjoyed his sunshine. 

The instant the little hour hand tapped 7:00, he pulled off his blankets and climbed out, stretching only momentarily before making his bed. Old military habits died hard; making his bed tightly enough to bounce a quarter off it was just one of the ones that had stuck. Forrest kept to the same schedule every day for the most part, altering it only slightly for the weekends to accommodate for mass and his weekly shopping. Keeping order in one’s life begins as soon as one wakes up, as Mama said. 

Even in the years since she’d passed, Mama held great influence in her son’s life. He wasn’t a particularly holy man anymore, if he ever had been in the first place, but he whispered a prayer of his own sort for her every morning as he passed by her photo hung in the hallway between his bedroom and the kitchen. A small breakfast came before getting dressed, just to make sure his clothes for the day stayed neat and tidy. When Mama had first opened the shop, she’d always insisted that Forrest stay neat and presentable for the customers. It wouldn’t ever do for florists to be messy, or else customers might think their flowers are messy. It made sense to Forrest then, and now that he was the sole employee of Gump Flowers, he took the instruction even more seriously. 

Mama had taught him everything he needed to know to run the shop in the years they had worked on it together. It’d grown successful enough that he could easily afford to hire more employees and truly never need to work ever again, but it just felt so impersonal, almost even rude to what had been built up. So he stayed in his single spot, as the solitary employee who handled every aspect of running the single store. 

Not that Forrest minded his spot; not at all. He had a quaint street corner with large windows and he could live on the second floor. Not to mention he had a particular fondness for the shop next door. It wasn’t exactly one that Forrest would ever purchase something from, but he still found himself going in every time he took his break for lunch. 

The shop had changed hands throughout the years he and Mama had been on the corner, but no matter who moved in, Mama always made a point to go and introduce herself and bring a welcome bouquet. He carried on the tradition to the first new owner who set up after Mama passed, selecting a simple little bouquet of hydrangea and spray roses. Not much thought had gone into the arrangement except for noticing bright blue walls inside as he walked by on his way back from shopping the Saturday before. 

The first day an ‘open’ sign was hung in the door, he plucked the bouquet from the plastic vase it had stood in beside the door and made his way next door. By the time he actually set foot inside his neighbor’s business, it had changed considerably from the plain bright blue walls. For the most part, the walls were covered with posters and drawings of all sorts, about equal parts black and white and coloured. Some were simple and elegant and others were evil enough to have sent a shiver down his spine had he seen them in his younger days. 

For a moment or two, Forrest was so enamoured with the art that he’d hardly noticed the girl poke her head out from around a doorway he suspected was for employees only. Even then, he wasn’t shaken from his fascination until she spoke. 

“Can I help you?” Only then did he finally make eye contact with his new neighbor. She seemed to be about his age, but her demeanour was both far younger and far older than his. Her eyes were old as Mama’s, but the way she walked and dressed and smiled made her look almost like a teenager. 

Forrest could feel his cheeks get a little redder as he shifted the bouquet to his left hand and offered his right to shake. 

“I’m Florist Gump, m’am, your new neighbor,” he explained, shaking her hand firmly, just like how Mama had taught him. “Brought these over for you as a housewarming gift.” 

Forrest wasn’t sure if his use of the word was correct, given that it wasn’t a house, but his new neighbor didn’t seem to mind. She accepted the flowers immediately, wearing an expression Forrest could only describe as ‘star-struck’. 

“These are exquisite, Mr. Gump…” she murmured, holding them to her nose gently. “Thank you so much.” 

Forrest wasn’t sure what to say after she’d thanked him for the flowers. It was all he remembered from the brief visits he’d tagged along with Mama to. She’d present the flowers, introduce herself as the neighbor and have a chat, but the chats had never interested him, so he hadn’t paid attention. In the moment those big blue eyes were looking at him, waiting for him to say or do anything, he could only think of one thing: 

“M’am, are you an angel?” 

It was his neighbor’s turn to blush as she tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear. 

“No… no, I don’t think so, Mr. Gump.” 

“I think you are,” Forrest shrugged. “Doesn’t much matter if I’m right or not.” 

His neighbor tilted her head, lips pursed in mute amusement. The moment of silence between them lingered just a second too long before she finally spoke her mind. “No one’s ever said something that nice about me, Mr. Gump, thank you.” 

“Forrest.” 

“Beg your pardon?” 

“Mama said Mr. Gump was my father. I’m just Forrest.” 

“Well, Forrest the Florist Gump, I best be letting you get back to your shop and getting these into some water.” She motioned with her head towards the little bouquet. He nodded solemnly, and began to leave, pausing only to turn back with a sudden memory of Mama’s etiquette. 

“It was lovely to meet you, miss.” His neighbor chuckled quietly. 

“‘Miss’ was my mother, according to the fellas she knew. I’m Jenny.” 

In the few weeks since, Forrest had taken almost every lunch break in her shop, telling her everything she could ever want to know about his life up until that point; the ins and outs of the flower industry and all the life lessons Mama had ever taught him. In return, he learned that Jenny had begun tattooing people for money while she had travelled around the country and she had finally gathered enough money to open a shop in her hometown, the one place in America where she had spent the least amount of time. 

Jenny didn’t much like talking about her travels or how she had come to return to Greenbow, but Forrest was glad enough to be in her company that he didn’t push. He didn’t ask questions that Jenny wouldn’t want to answer. He held her up to too high a regard to ever upset her. 

On that morning, Jenny was already waiting on the other side of the glass door when Forrest flipped the sign from ‘Come again soon’ to ‘Come in; we’re open!’. He could already tell something had to be seriously wrong when the eyes he’d come to know as the same blue as the hydrangea he’d given her at their first meeting were waterlogged and red around the edges. 

“Jenny, what’s the matter?” She stepped inside his shop and closed the door behind her, gripping him tightly. 

“Forrest, I need your help with something real important. Can you put off opening for a while?” 

It was a request from Jenny; the sign was flipped back before she even said the word. 

“What can I do to help you, Jenny?” he asked solemnly, not resisting the death grip she had on his arms. 

“I need you to help me pack up my shop, as fast as you can. You can keep the posters to remember me by, if you want, but I need help to pack up my machine in the next half hour.” 

The instant she gave her instructions, Forrest felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, but he said nothing. Jenny wouldn’t leave if she didn’t have good reason for it. It was the mantra he kept repeating in the back of his mind as he packed her machine gently into the carrying case she had brought it in while she packed her personal belongings into a ratty old suitcase. The only explanation she gave was that Greenbow wasn’t safe for her anymore. Someone had found her. Someone she obviously didn’t want to do exactly that. Forrest didn’t ask who; it was none of his business. 

As promised, within a half hour, Jenny had cleaned out most of her shop and apartment, leaving so much behind as she took off in the taxi that had pulled up for her. Within a half hour, Gump Flowers was back open. Within a half hour, a new bouquet of hydrangea was sitting on the cash counter; a gentle reminder of the angel who had briefly lived next door, grown in and died out of his life as quickly as a flower, herself.


End file.
